Worlds Apart

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Cue the mellotron: ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead go prog.

By David Adams

&#Array;And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead (henceforth referred to by the finger-saving Trail of Dead) burst out of Austin, Texas and into the hearts of hip rock fans with 2002's Source Tags and Codes. The record combined careening guitar noise and punkish snarling with high-brow interludes and even a dash of U2's anthemic grandeur. In the not-heard-on-MTV world, it was a hit. Some reviewers even proclaimed it perfect.

With 2003's The Secret of Elena's Tomb, Trail of Dead indulged in the experimentalism hinted at on Source Tags. Their latest full-length, Worlds Apart, jumps shamelessly into the ever-awkward world of progressive rock.

It's great that Trail of Dead want to stretch out, and I won't even fault them for doing so in a prog direction. Unfortunately, their ambition may be out-distancing their abilities. Years ago, Sunny Day Real Estate made a similar move from emo to artsy prog conceit, but Jeremy Enigk and crew pulled it off, whereas Trail of Dead are floundering. The difference is that Sunny Day knew that all the virtuoso vamping and sophisticated arrangements still needed to serve musicality, whereas Trail of Dead give us a lot of bombast and filigree, but little coherence.

Source Tags and Codes was ugly and beautiful, all screaming and frayed-string guitars and roiling climax. It worked partly because it didn't sound like a band trying very hard. So much of the record felt so ragged that the shameless anthems toward the end, or the string interlude introducing the last song, were beautiful by contrast. Generally, the band sounded unhinged, a roller coaster running way beyond safety code. Now they just sound careful -- and like they're trying very hard indeed.

The music on Worlds Apart isn't bad. Trail of Dead are a competent band, so this record's failure isn't so egregious. The new album is a mishmash of influences -- you'll hear Bowie-style glam piano in the fairly amiable "Summer 91," and "Classic Art Showcase" features a bridge which is straight Dark Side of the Moon, including "ooh-ing" soulful women. So, fine -- all music is born of influences. But the best bands are alchemists turning the familiar inside out to show us something new. Here, it feels like Trail of Dead are just filling a high school scrapbook with their favorite Yes and Pink Floyd clippings. You'll get orchestral swells, Rush-like power chord-meets-kick drum moments (check "Will You Smile Again for Me"), the odd sound sample, and all manner of dynamic shifts. It all sounds so grand. But Trail of Dead forgot to make real music out of all of it -- stuff you want to live with a while, let alone a juicy hook. There isn't a stand-out melody in the whole mess.

Another problem with the band's new high-brow sound is that the singing is now discernable. On Source Tags, the vocals were one more screeching layer in the cacophony; it wasn't so important what they were singing as how cathartic it felt. That might have been for the best; Conrad Keely might have plenty of feeling and energy, but more often than not his whine is grating.

Hearing the voice means hearing the words. Worlds Apart features lyrics to match the pretense of the music: like high school poetry, they're earnest, well-intentioned, and clumsy. "We are all so capable of / the greatest acts of hate and the worst acts of love," Keely awkwardly posits on "And the Rest Will Follow," which musically is one of the better tracks here. On the title track -- which begins, by the way, with kids giggling and Keely yelling "Hey, f--- you, man!" -- Keely rails against the music industry. At least, I think so: along with whining about MTV, celebrities, and the BBC, Keely also includes "Wrath hath soured / Blood and death, we will pay back the debt / For this candy store of ours." Right. And if it all seems too opaque, don't worry -- he also drops in a Twin Towers reference in the chorus, in case you weren't feeling the pathos.

I suppose the lyrical awkwardness wouldn't matter as much if everything about Worlds Apart didn't scream "Big Ideas!" The record even begins with an Orff-like choral overture, for god's sake. Trail of Dead is no longer content making ragged, near-catastrophe rock 'n' roll. It's time to make Art, to talk about Deep Things. The chorus chants, the piano tinkles, the violins preen. We're obviously meant to sit down and pay attention this time. The problem is, like an angsty kid at open-mike poetry night, the band doesn't make anything new out of well-worn lines, and we're left sitting here, feeling awkward.